Across All Tomorrows
First Day of the Second Month 294 AC
The conversation started as many important things did over cake, layered chocolate cake of almost ridiculously decadent proportions to be precise. Not even the prodigious appetites of two quickly growing girls and one more even more rapidly growing dragon curdled on the table like a particularly sated cat could finish it. No one had yet taught Ysandryx the value of chairs and her two friends had privately decided to give up on it. There were after all more interesting things afoot.
"So, what do you think about the election for Voice of the City?" Kyla asked brightly. "Things are getting a bit heated what with people calling each other names, but I have found some of the speeches to be quite edificating."
Ysilla looked at her friend in askance, like an actor in a mirror play. "Did you swallow a dictionary again? More people will listening to the posters saying 'slaver' and 'grifter' than the ones listening to speeches. A lot of those were their people bought and paid to cheer, the better to puff them both up."
"Even if you are right, citizens will get better at recognizing the glint of gold in the muck eventually," Kyla replied, motioning dramatically with her spoon. "A lot more people have the time to think about the big important decisions, like where taxes are spent and city planning. You might catch them up with petty words and catchy tunes at first, but once they see with their own eyes what sort of harvest their choices have reaped..."
The younger girl was nowhere near conceding, though in anyone who knew her would recognize the smile of 'a fun argument' upon her lips lips. "They won't. There's a limit on how far local Voices can fuck up. Just look at the Andreaos scandal over in Tyrosh, got taken apart with divination before the treasury could bleed more than a few drops. It's all mummery for the crowds. Everything comes back to the King and the lords, no matter what you call them. The people casting votes aren't going to learn anything out of the whole business unless they were actually the ones in charge."
"Careful Ysi, your father wouldn't like hearing those sorts of firebrand ideas from you," Kyla giggled.
Ysandryx merely snorted faintly at the notion that any companion of hers would have to care for the opinions of a mortal without a drop of sorcery in his blood or great deeds to his name, but the young Royce scion ignored her. There really wasn't any arguing with a dragon on that point. "I'm not saying I want the Voices in charge instead of the King, but that they would have to be in order to prove if people eventually learn to choose good candidates over poor ones. You don't forge a sword in candle flame."
"Well now, the King can decide on anything he pleases, but not everything right? That is why there are Voices and the devolution of power beyond simple lordship and patronage." Kyla paused expectantly the way Headmistress Teana did when she taught something complicated about shadow magic, where you had to find the answer instead of being handed it.
"Yes," Ysila replied, playing along, though only just as she polished off her slice of cake. She had after all been at the same lessons.
"Well that means that the aggregate decisions of the Voices will have an greater impact on people's lives..."
"Changing the helmsman once every hour will just make the ship turn in circles," Ysandryx hissed unexpectedly. "There are no decision of the Voices spinning on into eternity, only of this Voice or that gone like a spark in the night. In the administration, the Legion, the Inquisition, the fire endures though it may have started upon a candle's wick. There is a limit set to how much gold an immortal can hoard, but what of treasures more ethereal? Influence, knowledge, reputation, mortals and their voices come and go, and a thousand years from now you two will still be here to keep me company, sword and book pinned over your hearts."
In that one moment as the golden light of morning struck the dragon's gaze the two friends saw themselves reflected in azure depths, not as they were but as they might be, bearing the accolades of a thousand victories and the blood of a thousand sins down through the long ages.
Neither girl said anything as they reached out to join hands. Ysandryx was confused but accepting when Ysila reached out for her as well. It was probably one of those hard to explain mortal moods.
OOC: A bit of a reminder at the end that a dragon, even a baby dragon, is a creature of destiny and elder dreams. 
